Angel Cake
by Isabella Medici
Summary: [WARNING! YAOI] There are three things Belphegor wants for his birthday. Blood, guts and an angel cake. He'll get all three, but not how he wished for them. The prince will learn you have to be careful how you make your bed, because as they say, you will have to lay in it too. SqualoxBelphegorxXanxus


Iron grey eyes of Superbi Squalo observed the raindrops on the window, running down in irregular lines. Dark clouds behind the glass threatened the storm is far from over. It's only a little past noon, but Varia manor was shrouded in darkness and whipped from never-ending rain.

When did it start? When did _something_ in his chest shifted? There was a time, long ago … a special time. Belphegor now pretends it never existed; he's embarrassed, no doubt. But Squalo won't forget it – a time when Bel would come to him when he was distressed or lonely. He was a child, no, a fucking brat back then and his princely pride would not let him admit how he was feeling, but the swordsman knew. He understood it almost instinctively.

_I don't understand._

Little prince never said anything, but Squalo caught him staring at the same spot for hours, or hugging his knees while hiding in a closet; grinning immediately, the boy brushed it off and the arrogant second-in-command never voice aloud how lost Bel looked at those times. Then, the prince had a habit of coming to Squalo and grabbing his coat or just sit in his presence, which was in stark contrast to his usual irritating personality and cruel pranks. It was then the swordsman understood the child sought his companionship when he was distressed or lonely; but why say such an embarrassing thing aloud? Squalo let him be and spared him any taunting that would inevitably come from Leviathan, who was already Bel's number one target and enemy.

_I don't understand._

Squalo's eyes traced a raindrop down its path to the windowsill. Looking back, did he really stay quiet because of that reason? Or was it because he … didn't want to break the spell? The illusion of a family comfort? But did Belphegor ever really wanted a family? He had murdered his own, but none of the Varia knew how his family situation had been. Maybe … it was him, Squalo, who was holding onto an illusion of- no, where the fuck did that came from? He has no need for any sort of useless emotions and unnecessary people.

_I don't understand._

Belphegor was like an offspring of Satan – how many times did officers almost die because of his pranks and jokes? Many Varia subordinates had. Still, Squalo always remembered to order large amount of candy and sweets for him. When they were out on a mission, Squalo or Lussuria would buy him ice cream on the way back. Once, when little prince was uncharacteristically quiet and serious the whole day, Squalo would check on him at night and saw Bel sitting in his bed, awake.

_I don't understand._

He went to the kitchen, poured a glass of cooled milk and put a spoonful of honey in it. Walking back upstairs, he sat on the edge of Bel's bed, gave him the drink with stern warning he's got a mission tomorrow and must rest. The child drank the milk in one go, then reached for swordsman's wrist and clasped it with his fingers. They remained like that for exactly four seconds – Squalo counted – before little prince let go and lied down. It was the closest thing to any kind of affectionate gesture or emotion Squalo ever received from Belphegor. Ever. That's why he thought he understood Belphegor, if he ignored his split personality when Bel caught the sight of his own blood. He thought he _knew_ him.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Superbi concentrated on the glass and saw Leviathan's reflection walk right pass him. When he was gone, Squalo focused on raindrops again.

_I don't understand … anything … anymore_.

Belphegor grew up, he was now almost seventeen years old and Squalo has stopped paying any special attention to him as Bel didn't need to be taken care of. Swordsman was relieved, he was fucking mad he had to babysit the little brat and finally, his freedom was back. It's been a long time, it's been many years since he had a thought that would circle around the prince alone. Until …

_I fucking don't get it!_

The boss was leaning back on beige sofa in his office. His long, muscular legs were far apart, his arms on the backrest of the sofa in leisure manner. Belphegor was straddling him, hands on Xanxus' shoulders. Upon Squalo, holding papers, intruding in, the prince pulled his head back from the boss, away from his lips. A thin strand of saliva traced from one to the other; it was broken when Bel leaned back a little more.

Squalo was rarely so shocked he couldn't move or say anything. Now it was worse – he couldn't even think. Three strikes of lightning hit his body with immense force, but he didn't know which shocked him the most: boss's eyes filled with lust and want to fuck Belphegor or Belphegor going willingly along with it or … the terrible pain and sense of betrayal he suddenly felt growing in his chest.

Without a word, he closed the office door, leaving them inside to indulge in … whatever they wanted, and quickly walked away, afraid he might overhear something he really doesn't want to. Something he doesn't want to know.

It's been a month since then. The prince acted like a bitch; when boss would whistle, he came running. Then they disappeared for hours. This was not the Bel he knew, the bloodthirsty monster sadistically bathing in blood of the innocent people. Squalo buried himself in work; a month passed by too quickly.

_I don't understand because … because …_

Because Belphegor avoided Xanxus when he was a child. He respected and feared him, showed remarkable loyalty to boss even back then, but avoided him nonetheless, which is understandable; from a child's point of view, Xanxus looked like a death god. Then he was frozen for eight years. He didn't see Bel grow up, he didn't deal with the shitty prince when he was a child. Swordsman did. Is that why he couldn't see clearly what Belphegor had become? Because he always saw him as a child? Because he still remembers to order candy for him?

Swordsman sat down on a nearby chair and rested his head in his hands, all the while not taking eyes off the raindrops. It's not hard to see this from Xanxus' point of view: he had barely any memories of a child Bel. He was just some fucking annoying runt that he occasionally saw running about. Eight years later, here's a slim teen, soft fair hair, all teeth and smiles with that cuteness that was absolutely disgusting – something he had never grown out of. It's like a delicious piece of vanilla chocolate fell right into Xanxus's hands.

It didn't bother Squalo that boss saw Belphegor in a sexual way, the prince was in those years when everything about him screamed of raging hormones too, but it … it's just … just …

_It's just that I was there first._

Squalo banged his fist down on the armchair and growled quietly. What a sick thought! What the fuck is wrong with him today? He's a high-class assassin and he doesn't have feelings. He's only born to kill.

Late in the evening, the rain ceased yet darkness remained; the night was coming, cooling the air. There were first stars in the sky. Superbi Squalo didn't notice them. He was called into Xanxus's office for a report. He heard muffled sounds with his Varia quality ears as he was walking closer. A sigh, a grunt, a gasp, grunt again. Both voices were eerily familiar to him, but he had ignored them stubbornly.

Stopping right in front of the office door, he knocked loudly three times. Voices died down.

"Open it," came a low, hoarse voice. Shuffling was heard, then slow, lazy footsteps. The door opened and as soon as Squalo caught a glimpse of yellow and silver, he gazed in the other direction, deep inside the room, at Xanxus, half sitting, half lying on his beige sofa. His shirt was opened and there was a Varia jacket on the floor near him. A jacket that didn't belong to boss.

"I came to report, like you ordered," emotionlessly said Squalo, stepping inside, completely ignoring the other person in the room. As he moved closer to the boss, he heard the door closing behind him.

"Lock it," ordered Xanxus.

Squalo sat down on the other side of the sofa and began to read his report.

"Today at exactly 9 am I send the inspection group to …"

"Continue."

The order was not aimed at Squalo. "… reach our Sicilian allies and receive information about our target personally. They … VOOOOIIII WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Swordsman jumped of the couch, too shocked to remember he was trying to erase Belphegor's existence in the room. The prince, in his stripped shirt, was on his knees, between boss's legs, unzipping his pants.

Bel's fingers stopped moving and he turned to his captain, but Squalo had no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he would, if he could see the brat's eyes.

Instead, he looked at Xanxus, who was staring at him sideways, silent. This was not how he would react normally – Xanxus would either close his eyes and ignore him or, if he was in a bad mood, throw something heavy at him with frightfully precise aim. This odd stare … did … boss … knew what was going on in Squalo's mind?

Hah. Might as well. It was almost impossible to hide anything from Xanxus, the man knew everything, god knows how.

"Shut up, useless shark. Continue."

Second-in-command and prince understood the last word was aimed at both.

"I CAN'T GIVE MY REPORT WHILE THIS-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Squalo knew this was last threat before Xanxus snaps. Bel might have sensed it too, because he almost moved back, but then stayed on the spot.

"Tch. Don't drag me into your sick games!" Swordsman sat down again, his eyes on the paper he was holding. "They exchanged it for the rare artifact from art museum Mammon stole specially for them. The information led them to the north of Naples …"

He sensed the movement from the corner of his eye. He heard sighs and boss's low grunts from time to time.

"… dealt with them alone easily …"

Squalo sneaked a peek of the pair left of him. Xanxus was leaned back, arms outstretched on the backrest, head back and eyes closed. The prince was between his legs, squeezing his penis with one hand at the end, and sucking the rest of it. Up and down, up and down. Once or twice he took it out of his mouth to teasingly lick the tip of it and pumped it with his hand. Then he ate it again. Up and down, up and down.

Squalo couldn't look away. A drop of sweat came down Bel's neck. His skin was porcelain white, but his cheeks were a nice, soft shade of red. He was drooling a little. The corner of his mouth was slightly upwards. He was enjoying himself, the fucking slut.

When he felt himself stiffen, swordsman quickly turned away and stared in his papers as if he wants to burn a hole in them. He was listening to the delicious sound next to him, his own breathing faster. He had completely forgotten he was supposed to be going on with his report, but it didn't matter since Xanxus was not in the condition to hear him anyway.

Boss suddenly straightened up and clutched the front of Belphegor's golden hair. Pushing him away roughly, the made the prince fall on his back. Xanxus kneeled down and towered his body over Bel, carelessly tearing apart the waist of the prince's pants.

Squalo was in trance. Not being able to think, he watched in a dazed state how his boss placed both hands on Bel's hips, lifted them a little, then thrust himself in.

"A-ah … ah … ah …"

The prince lay there, drooling, with lovely pink cheeks, his tongue hanging out at the side of his mouth.

"Boss … moreeeeee …"

His voice was strangely strangled; like he was on a battlefield and would see his own blood; like he was losing his mind; like he was not himself anymore.

Xanxus leaned down on him a little more, sweating, smirking sadistically, his thrusts wild and out of control; the man used all his force with no regard if Belphegor would get hurt because of it.

The feared boss pulled himself out and turned Bel around as if he was a motionless doll and thrust into him from behind. His fingers were greedily digging into prince's hips and Bel leaned his upper body on the floor, keeping his behind up in the air. Xanxus clutched a handful of golden hair again, forcing Belphegor's head on the ground, no, he was pushing it to the floor, as he thrusted into him, into his flesh.

"H-ha … aaaa … haaa …"

"Shut it and take it all in, fucking trash."

Squalo watched drooling Belphegor. His cheeks had this sweet color … the scent of the scene before him was like a slap in the face; swordsman blinked rapidly for a moment and looked at the pair on the floor before him like he only just now noticed Xanxus fucking the brains out of Belphegor.

The prince's face was turned in his direction, but his hair made it impossible to see where he was looking. Squalo would say he was looking at anything except him, but swordsman simply wasn't sure because …

_I don't understand … anything … anymore …_

"You're a fucking ugly whore," Squalo suddenly said.

"Hrm?" Prince's intoxicated grin disappeared. A vein popped on his head. "You bastard! H-how are yyyyou talking … to … the prince?"

His voice was slurred and he was out of breath, but his response came a second too late.

_A second too late._

Squalo's mouth suddenly broke into a cruel, arrogant smirk. He was able to struck a cord.

Bel looked stiff and his mouth was closed. He wasn't grinning. Squalo was. Swordsman was flashing his teeth in a cruel grin. Shitty prince didn't look like he was enjoying himself anymore.

Without a word, Varia's second-in-command stood up, unlocked the door and left the office. Bel will not be able to come this time, he thought with malice.

_I thought you will give it to me, you fucking punk. You manipulative, lying son of a bitch. It was mine to take. Fuck you. I will punish you._

Tomorrow is Belphegor's birthday. He'll turn seventeen. It'd be great if it would snow overnight. That would be very handy. Squalo will have a talk with the boss in the morning; together, they will make the prince's birthday _very_ memorable.

* * *

**First chapter is done. Please, please, review. :) Second chapter will be out soon.**


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